A Challenging Role
by KeepCalmFanFicExists
Summary: Harry's thoughts on his new role as little Teddy's godfather, that Friday night when he first met him.


_A/N: Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, round one as Chaser #3 for the Wanderers. The theme was a story of 1000-3000 on the thoughts of a godparent and using three prompts. These were ''(dialog) Don't tel me what to do!'', ''(phrase) beyond the darkness'', ''(phrase) laughter is the best medicine''._

_A thank you to Melody (prestosmpj1999) for being a beta for this :)_

The room was quiet. Too quiet. No explosions, no spells yelled, no cries for help. He should be finding it relieving, relaxing, but he didn't. On the contrary, it reminded him of those dreadful days when Ron was gone and the silence in the tiny, smelly tent was filling the night. And, most chillingly, it reminded him of that room with the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius' silent scream of horror when he was falling elegantly, leaving him parentless again deafened him so much he had to sit up straight to clear his head.

His godfather's death had given him a great shock, he had to admit. He had really loved him as a father, a brother and a friend; the only true family he had ever had. They should have enjoyed a long, lasting relationship, so a knot stood in his throat when he thought of how much happier Sirius could have been if they had had a future together. But now all that remained in his mind was the once handsome face full of wrinkles and frowns, with patches of red from the drinking and his reckless, erratic behaviour.

Irrational anger filled his chest so much that he felt like he was about to explode. It wasn't Sirius' fault, but he still couldn't forgive him. He hadn't been a good godfather and now he, Harry, would have to take the very same role to help another orphan. And he had no clue how to do that. With living family that mistreated him regularly and Sirius as the only example he would have to improvise.

He let his gaze roam at the sleeping baby with the light blue hair that matched the blanket that wrapped around him, a happy yet absonant note compared to his grim thoughts. For some reason the fragile, small body of the child seemed now even more odd and alien than this morning when he had seen him for the first time. Actually it was the first time he had seen any toddler up close.

And Andromeda had noticed. The woman, grief-stricken by the sudden demise of her whole family seemed to be clinging to the child like a lifebelt and so she hadn't been overly thrilled to know her daughter's wish for Harry's involvement. She had been eyeing him in a very hostile manner for days while they were both avoiding each other and the ''talk'' that would follow, but in the end it was inevitable and it hadn't gone that well. She hadn't exactly yelled at him:

''Don't tell me what to do!'', but she looked like she was being denied her only hold on sanity.

Which she was, Harry was sure. In just two months she had lost a husband, a daughter, a son-in-law and, Harry was hesitant to add, a sister. And just when she had accepted her new role as a mother and father all in one, he had invaded.

Harry sighed again. He had always admired Andromeda for being open-minded and brave enough to follow her heart so he hoped their relationship would mend itself for the sake of little Teddy Lupin.

His mind was suddenly filled with images of his Aunt and Uncle planning vacation trips and excursions to the Mall in which he had never been included. He remembered also scenes from the few movies he had watched in the Muggle world where children merrily played in parks with their parents nearby having a picnic.

He had never been to a picnic, he had never played merrily in parks nor had he ever been on actual vacations. How in the name of Godric was he supposed to do this?

Harry got to his feet and started tiding up the baby station just to calm his anxious mind down.

Big mistake. Because under the fluffy yellow towel, a small photo was lying on the bench. Remus and Tonks were easily recognizable even though the resolution of the picture was bad. Sitting on a hard floor, a rocky surface behind them, wands in hand, they were obviously on an Order mission from maybe three years ago. Both of their faces tense, eyes wide scanning the frame of their picture, ready to deflect any attack.

Another knot was stuck in Harry's throat and his hand started to tremble. At some point Teddy would start asking questions about the family story. He knew it.

He had had a lot of questions back then and nobody had bothered to give him an answer at all. That had left him sad and bitter for some time and then he had found out the truth in the most unorthodox and non-pedagogically acceptable way.

Some random giant, no matter how good-natured he was, was not the best idea to break such news. His knees hurt as he had a flashback to that frantic day in Umbridge's office when he had begged Sirius and Remus for details on his parents' relationship.

He really didn't want anything like that to happen to his godson.

It had been awful to feel all that uncertainty and some things were simply too big for even an elder child to get a grip on.

How would he explain to Teddy the complex relationship his parents had had? Should he ever mention Remus had once considered leaving them both due to his condition? And most importantly how could he explain to a toddler that his parents had died while staring beyond the darkness of the human soul?

Quietly he put the photo back where he had discovered it, surprised to see the first slivers of light finding their way inside the nursery.

So he had spent his whole night agonizing about his new role and mourning the death of his own godfather instead of looking after the baby. Didn't that prove how unsuitable he was for the job?

Of course he wanted to be part of the orphan's life, but that didn't mean he could-

Little Teddy had woken up. Tiny, fat fists rubbed his eyes, his body covering almost completely the stuffed Kneazle in his crib.

Harry moved closer to the bed and lifted him the way Andromeda had showed him. For a second his brain went blank: what was he supposed to do now? But a sharp pain distracted him.

Teddy had taken a good grip on his fringe and was pulling with all his might. Trying not to show the pain, he disentangled the paunchy fingers and put the baby back in the crib.

The smart boy seemed to understand he had done no good because now his expression was too sweet and innocent.

A small laugh escaped his lips. Instantly, he felt much more optimistic, as if everything was going to work out.

Oh yes, laughter is the best medicine.


End file.
